If I Stay
by xstormqueenx
Summary: As Dr. Rachel Scott battles to find a cure for the 'Red Flu' virus, her younger sister, Evelyn, has to fight to find her place in a world that's fast fading away.{AU}.
1. Götterdämmerung

**Author's Note:** Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.

* * *

 **Götterdämmerung**

"Sit down - please," Aaron said, gesturing to the chair beside him, making Rachel's hackles rise. Somehow her brother-in-law managed to make the most reasonable request sound like an order, but she guessed that came with the territory of serving on the Senate. Ever since her elder sister had surrendered her surname for another, Rachel had strived to stay on the right side of civil around her imposing in-law, but ten years on, she still hadn't managed to achieve that particular ambition.

"Is there a particular reason why you hauled me out here?" she said, reluctantly sitting down. She always preferred to stand around Aaron. It made her feel like she held the advantage over him. "The private jet was a nice touch," she said lightly, raising an eyebrow, "but rather melodramatic, I must say. Evelyn would have appreciated the retro Sixties interior though. She's going through a hippie stage," she finished, referencing her youngest sister, her English accent more cutting than usual.

Aaron appraised her over steepled fingers, recognizing, not for the first time, the challenge Rachel presented. Connected to the Kennedys, he'd exploited his heritage to the hilt, rising through the political ranks at a speed his rivals envied. Falling in love with an obscure English author hadn't slowed his ascent, Sarah's naturally aristocratic mien merely enhancing his status. Now there were rumours he was planning on running for President, rumours Aaron had refrained from challenging, seeing it as another means to raise his reputation to even greater heights. Becoming Senator had just been the start. But pride came before a fall, and none of that mattered now, not with his world imploding from within.

"Well?" Rachel prompted, raising both eyebrows now.

Aaron swallowed hard, before leaning back in his chair, his eyes suddenly becoming bright with unshed tears. He rumpled up his silvering hair with agitated fingers, the gesture uncharacteristically uncontrolled. "Sarah... is ill," he said, his voice cracking, "she's very ill, dy - they think she might not make it." His jaw worked, and he looked away, casting his gaze to the ground instead, his hands gripping the ornate rococo carving of his chair for support.

Rachel stared at him, the blood draining from her face. "The - the virus?" she whispered, gambling on a guess, feeling like she was going to faint as Aaron nodded. The infection was slowly spreading, not enough to cause panic, only to merely generate a few headlines on the less commercialized news stations. But to Rachel, who had been tracking its progress, it was ominous. The danger signs were pointing at it being more deadly than SARS or Ebola. But the CDC, where she worked, weren't taking it seriously enough, observing rather than acting, much to Rachel's frustration.

At first, it had been confined to the Third World, before emerging in the Middle East, with several suspected cases then being reported in Europe, only for that front to fall silent. In Rachel's professional opinion, it had only been a matter of time before it reached America, and now it had, turning her own sister into the carrier. Rachel slumped back in her seat, the shock hitting her like a tidal wave. Aaron glanced at her, his lower lip trembling. "She's in quarantine," he said, starting to rock back and forth, "along with half her staff - they've all tested positive - nobody will let me see her. All they say is that she's dying, that there's no hope" -

\- "Then why am I here?" Rachel said, dragging herself back to life. "If there's no hope, why I am here!?" she suddenly screamed, making him flinch.

"Because they think this is the big one," Aaron said, finally meeting her eyes for the first time. "The one that could wipe us off the face of the planet."

Again, Rachel just stared at him, the world closing in on her like a kaleidoscope. " _They?_ " she whispered in disbelief.

"The American government," Aaron snapped. "Who else? The Spice Girls? To say I had friends in high places was an understatement" -

\- "Had? _Was?_ "

"I am right in the middle of this mess, Rachel," Aaron said, biting his nails, "when this virus thing started, I - I tried to downplay with the rest of them, that it was nothing to do with us, that we were untouchable, that it wouldn't dare - But now it's here, it has Sarah, and they've made me their whipping boy. Behind the scenes, it's all gone into meltdown. They've tasked the CDC with developing a vaccine" -

\- "There is no work being done on a vaccine," Rachel said, sitting up, spine stiffening, "there was talk, but that was it" -

\- "They're doing it now," Aaron explained, "but it's top secret, and you would have been the last one to be brought on board." He bowed his head, unable to meet her blazing green eyes.

"They should have started working on a vaccine a long time ago," Rachel said from between gritted teeth, "I told them that time and time again, but nobody listened. All they wanted to do was study it, to chop it up into little pieces for their own benefit - bio-terrorism, germ warfare... As long it wasn't in their own back yard, and contained in their enemy's, they didn't care. It was all too convenient for them to have several population explosions wiped out like that without any cost to them" -

\- "Listen to me," Aaron said suddenly, cutting across her, "the CDC - this is beyond them. My contact there says the trials for the vaccine aren't working and that the CDC is looking in all the wrong places for a cure. Time is running out, Rachel. That's why I brought you here. I've - I'm about to lose everything, and I deserve it, but it's not just about me. There are others who are being ostracised and isolated, all because they didn't agree with how this is being dealt with, people who challenged me and the others from the start. But now I'm one of their number, and we're closing ranks" -

"Get to the point, Aaron," Rachel said, struggling to control herself.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "It's only a matter of time before this becomes public," he said, his hands shaking, "and I'll be an outcast. But until then, I still hold sway in certain quarters, where they're still in the dark over what's happening. By calling in a few favours, I've managed to get you and your colleague, Dr. Tophet, on board the USS Nathan James. Somebody on the Defence Policy Board - I can't say who - heard from one of their contacts at the World Health Organization that the Russians are investigating a possible cure in the Arctic, suspecting that's where the virus's origins are. The CDC is refusing to countenance this theory, so that's where you're being sent. It's a shot in the dark, but it's the only chance we've got."

"It's the only chance Sarah's got," Rachel said, correcting him, her fingers curling into fists.

Aaron shook his head, tears beginning to roll down his face. "It'll be too late," he said, his voice cracking again, "nothing can save her. But she would want you to save others. If you don't, millions of people will die, Rachel. It's as simple as that."

Rachel sat there; feeling like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. She remembered Sarah hunched over her keyboard, fingers tapping out a furious rhythm; the sound of her dirty laugh; the defensive look on her face when she announced she was marrying Aaron Brandon after meeting him at a fundraising dance-off in downtown DC, a whirlwind romance Rachel had never wrapped her head around, Evelyn's astonishment seconding her own. They had been the Scott sisters. _They had been._

"Where and when did she contract the virus?" Rachel said, struggling to hold herself together.

"A week ago, in Egypt," Aaron said abruptly, making Rachel's heart stop. "She was opening up a women's refuge centre just outside Cairo - I told her not to go, but she wouldn't listen. Sometimes I think she loved her charity work more than me," he said, laughing bitterly.

"Because she felt you were more married to your job, than her," Rachel said, fighting the urge to hit him, her head spinning. _A week. She'd been sick for a week, and nobody had told her. Not her brother-in-law, or her colleagues, nobody. Her sister was dying, and they'd lied to her, all for the sake of public security._

"Did she tell you that?"

Rachel nodded, remembering too many late night phone calls from Sarah, her slurred words, the clink of a wine bottle from the other end of the line.

"I know you don't think I do, but I love your sister," Aaron said, beginning to rock back and forth again, "there was never anybody else. There never could have been. Nobody matched up to her" -

\- "She's not dead yet," Rachel snapped, tears springing to her eyes, "so stop talking like she's already gone!"

"Did she tell you how we met?" Aaron said, starting to lose all sanity. "It was at this charity dance-off thing, and we were up against these breakdancing hoodlum types, and she was throwing shapes like Cyd Charisse, and I thought, who is this broad?" -

\- "They turned the women's refuge centre into a quarantine zone," Rachel said, suddenly standing up. "The Egyptian officials said the infection was contained - I - I was there not three days ago, gathering samples for the CDC to study - I - I didn't know Sarah had been there" - They'd _known, and they'd sent_ her _there, to where her sister had met her death, bringing it back in her wake..._

\- "It was all hushed up, honey," Aaron drawled, motioning her to sit down. "A cover up on a grand-scale. But I've orchestrated an even bigger one, sugar!" He started laughing again, the sound echoing around the room, making Rachel realise he'd lost his mind. Without warning, she slapped him, hard, startling him to his senses. He sat there, shellshocked, her red handprint made all the more vivid against the backdrop of his bloodless face.

"You're sending me to the Arctic," Rachel said, remaining on her feet, her voice shaking, "but what about Evelyn? I can't leave her behind."

Aaron stared at her. "You can't bring her with you," he said in disbelief, "my contact's spun a cock and bull story to get you on board that ship, a story that barely stands up to scrutiny as it is. Dragging your kid sister along for the ride is just going to attract even more unwanted attention" -

\- "I refuse to lose another sister!" Rachel bellowed, silencing him. "I don't care how, but you better bloody get her on that ship, or I'll tell your superiors you're collaborating with the Russians. You're already on the way out, you said it yourself, so your little Russian racket would just hasten your exit."

Again, Aaron just stared at her.

"Don't play the wide-eyed ingénue, Aaron," Rachel hissed, "it doesn't suit you. I'm not naive. To get Russian secrets means you're working with the Russians - that on some level somewhere, somebody's selling out their own side. But I don't care about that. I don't care about whose palm you're greasing. You get my sister on that ship, and I'll find you that cure. For Sarah, it's - it's too late, but not for Evelyn - not yet. But I can't go out there, knowing she's back here. I need her with me. It's your call, Aaron, not mine."

Aaron hesitated, before nodding. "Fine," he said slowly, "have it your way."

"I always have," Rachel said coldly, "and always will."


	2. In The End

**In The End**

Rachel sat perched on a kitchen stool, her jaw ticking. After agreeing to her conditions, Aaron had organized the conclusion to his plans with dizzying speed. But she couldn't have expected anything else from him. She had been briefed on her cover story, that she and Quincy were virologists studying birds, Evelyn acting as their research assistant, a story she found hard to swallow. But as long as it was sanctioned by the CDC, their place onboard was secure - for the time being. She wondered what Quincy would make of it all, if he would agree to what was being asked of him.

She'd found out a little about the USS _Nathan James_ , that it was a U.S. Navy Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer, currently stationed at Norfolk, Virginia, with 217 men and women serving under a Commander Chandler. It was about to embark on a mission to the Arctic to test weapons systems, an operation requiring complete radio silence for several months, a fact that made Rachel fervently grateful she'd forced Aaron to accept her decree over Evelyn. She had been secretly provided with a satellite phone to keep in touch with Aaron's contact at the CDC, but that was strictly only to be used to detail her progress on the search for a vaccine.

Sarah had passed away two nights before, her death and those of her staff hushed up by the Oval Office, but Rachel had forced herself to shelf her grief, focusing on the future, what she had to do if she wanted to keep the world safe. Aaron said they didn't have time, but she would find time, even if she had to hold it back with her bare hands. Evelyn was still in the dark over the situation, being brought over by private jet from Cambridge where she was studying biological anthropology. But judging by Evelyn's Facebook page, she seemed to spend more time knocking back shots than studying biosocial variation, something which amused Rachel even as it irritated her.

Rachel glanced at Aaron, taking in his crumpled suit and bloodshot eyes. It had been desperation that had driven him to this, allowing Evelyn to accompany her on the flimsiest of pretexts, risking all he was trying to achieve. For him, it wasn't about saving the world; it was about saving himself, not just his life, but his way of life. With Sarah gone, all he had left was his ambition. If he came up with a cure, it would restore his reputation. But to achieve this, he needed Rachel, somebody outside the whirlwind he was trying to sow so he could reap his rewards. He'd turned her into a pariah, without even knowing it, and here she was, doing his dirty work.

Aaron's CDC contact had created a smoke screen to explain Rachel and Quincy's absence, a two-edged manoeuvre that could collapse like a house of cards at any time. Rachel had already been rippling the smooth surface of the CDC by challenging them several times on their attitude towards the virus, and with the scandal brewing behind the scenes with Senator Brandon, now seemed like the best time for the CDC to get Rachel out of the way by sending her abroad on basic data-collection duties, a mission more suited to a lesser experienced scientist - or so it had been made to appear. In reality, she would be laying the groundwork for bringing the CDC down, using their own resources to do so. It would mean doing double shifts and a lot of long nights, but she could do it, since it was all she did.

"I'm home, darling!" Evelyn trilled, tripping into the kitchen, trailing her suitcase behind her, her sarcastic greeting completely lost on Aaron. Rachel rose from the kitchen stool, steeling herself for the storm about to break. Despite everything, she surveyed her sister with fond exasperation, taking in the flowing maxi-dress and over-sized shades, her long highlighted hair framed with flowers. Like she'd said, Evelyn was going through her hippie phase, looking as if she'd time-travelled straight from Woodstock.

"Hey," Rachel said, enfolding her sister in her arms, before dropping a kiss on her brow. "How was the flight?"

"Exceedingly retro," Evelyn said, drawing back, her brow furrowing slightly. "What was with Air Force One anyways?" she asked, turning to Aaron. "Why am I here full stop? Nobody would tell me anything."

Rachel swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, finding it hard to frame the right words, only to find she couldn't.

"What's with the long faces?" Evelyn said, trying and failing to hide her fear with humour. "Is it Aaron's shoes? Because they're definitely not working with that suit" -

\- "Sarah," Rachel burst out, making Aaron slump against the sink, "it's Sarah - she's - she's gone."

"Gone where?" Evelyn said stupidly, taking a step back.

"She's - she's dead," Rachel said, her face crumpling. "Oh my God, she's _dead_." She collapsed against the kitchen work-top, burying her face in her hands, her grief engulfing her, everything she'd fought to keep at bay now drowning her, dragging her down.

Evelyn stared at her, all the blood draining from her face. Almost mechanically, she removed her shades, her grey eyes oddly dilated. She just stood there, the silence broken by Rachel's bitter sobs, and then her knees gave way beneath her, collapsing onto the kitchen tiles, the world spinning around her, slipping from her fingers.

 _Wishing I was dreaming_  
 _Wishing I didn't know_  
 _All the thoughts I was thinking_  
 _I don't want to know_

* * *

Evelyn sat there, nursing her coffee, Rachel's words whirling around her, _Arctic, virus, CDC, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah..._ Her grip on the coffee mug tightened, remembering Sarah and her red lipstick, how she always smeared it across her teeth; the time she fell into a bee-hive; how she prowled through Marks and Spencer like a panther in black leggings. She was gone, cut down, _dead._ Evelyn exhaled sharply, trying to hold onto herself. Rachel reached out across the table to her, taking her hand, holding onto her.

"I'm not going to the _Arctic_ with you," Evelyn said, her voice cracking. "What about my course? James? Unlike you, I have a life, Rachel." But none of that mattered, not now, not with Sarah dead.

"It's to keep you safe," Rachel said, tears pricking her eyes. "You're all I have left, Evy. I can't go out there, knowing you're here, all hell about to break loose."

Evelyn looked away, her jaw tightening. "Why does it have to be you?" she spat. "What makes you so special? Why doesn't he send someone else?"

"Because your sister is brilliant," Aaron said coldly, speaking up for the first time. "She's one of the best in her field, if not the best - that's what Sarah said." He cast his gaze to the ground, his chin trembling.

"You really expect them to swallow this shit about you and Quincy studying birds?" Evelyn said, switching tack, her fists clenching at the sound of her sister's name on Aaron's lips.

"Apparently," Rachel said tiredly, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her.

"But why would the CDC send you out there when you're needed here?" Evelyn snapped, returning to her original argument. "If you're the best, they would keep you on the frontline" -

\- "They're the ones sending me out there," Rachel reminded her quietly, "Aaron's contact sorted it all out - it's just a front. And you know my face has never fitted there, Evy, and with the whole debacle over the virus, they want me out of the way. I've been telling them since the first outbreak they need to get their arses into gear, and they never listened, and now it's too late. They're still subscribing to the theory the virus is in Phase 2, when we're really at the beginning of Phase 6" -

\- "I don't want to hear anymore, Rachel," Evelyn said, standing up, "it - it sounds like something out of a film. This isn't my life, it's _yours_ , alright, and I'm sick of it, bloody sick of it. Sarah's dead, and all you can talk about is trading secrets with the Russians and Arctic terns" -

\- "I have to do this, Evelyn," Rachel said, standing up as well, "time is running out, and the CDC is looking in all the wrong places for an answer. I don't have the luxury of grieving. I have to go out there - there's no other way around it. If I have to lie and deceive, so be it. If I have to sacrifice my sense of honour, fine. But I can't be like you and wallow in denial" -

\- "So shoot me if I am!" Evelyn exploded. "One minute I'm in a lecture on Behavioural Ecology, the next I'm in this nightmare where the world's ending and only my superhero sister can save it! You try wrapping your head around that one!"

"Oh, trust me, I've tried," Rachel said, sitting down again, "I have bloody _tried_."

* * *

"Quince!" Rachel exclaimed in relief as he came through the door. "God, I'm glad to see you!" She flung her arms around his neck, startling him slightly. Rachel wasn't exactly the most demonstrative of people.

"How are you?" he said quietly, discreetly disentangling himself from her embrace.

"Knackered," Rachel said, forcing a false smile. "Yourself?"

"Same," he said, running his hand over his head. "I can't even remember the last time I slept."

Rachel just nodded, her face feeling like a mask. From the moment Aaron had told her of Sarah contracting the virus, she'd been stricken by suspicion that Quincy had known, working alongside with her other colleagues in deceiving her. Unlike her, he didn't work at the CDC full time, dividing his work between there and the World Health Organization, but he still had loyalties to the CDC, an allegiance that might outstrip any he had for her and hers. But she cast aside her doubts, trying to convince herself that Quincy didn't know, and if he did, he would have told her. He was her only friend, the only one outside her family she trusted.

"You're up to date with the situation, then?" Rachel said abruptly, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Yes," Quincy said even more abruptly. "The Russians have the right idea about seeking out the primordial strain. It's lunacy for the CDC not to be doing the same."

"Which is why we're taking up the reins," Rachel said smartly, stooping down to pick up his suitcase, only for Quincy to grab her arm, halting her.

"Aaron told you that the trials for the vaccine aren't working, didn't he?" he said, something in his face making her stare at him, every inch of her on high alert.

"What of it?" she asked, straightening up.

"He never said why, did he?" Quincy pressed.

"How could he?" Rachel said, confused. "It's classified information."

"It can't be that classified if he knows they're not working."

"And it can't be that classified if you know as well," Rachel retorted. "We were just the errand boys."

"Alright, we picked up the samples," Quincy admitted, "but let's face it; I'm not exactly errand boy material, am I?" He grinned at her, his eyes dancing with malice.

"What did you do, Quince?" Rachel said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Let's just say Aaron's not the only one capable of double-crossing."

 _He didn't know. He doesn't know._

"What, you're lap-dancing for the Russians as well?"

"Hey, if I was going to sell my pound of flesh, it wouldn't be to them," Quincy snapped, dropping his gaze to the ground. "I'm talking about going behind closed doors at the CDC. There's a reason why these trials weren't working, Rach, and you're not going to like what I'm about to say either."

Rachel dropped her arms to her side. "Say it," she ordered, "and say it now."

"You know the virus is of unknown origin," Quincy said, running his hand down the side of his face, "or it was - whatever. But you don't know that it can self-replicate. It _has_ to mutate. That's why the Russians are trying to find a sample of the primordial strain."

Rachel turned away from him, her jaw ticking.

"We might not have time, Rachel," Quincy said quietly. "You know that, don't you?"

"Your family," Rachel said suddenly, turning to face him. "What's going to happen to them?"

"Never mind about that," Quincy snapped.

"I'm talking about your family here!"

"Well, let's just say we don't all have your good fortune," Quincy said, turning away from her this time.


	3. Janus

**Janus**

Quincy paced the polished floorboards of the rec-room, casting a contemptuous eye over the pin-ball machines and pool tables. Through the door opposite was a small cinema of all things, with rows of flip-up seats and a popcorn stand, a piece of whimsy that always got on Quincy's last nerve. The sprawling Brandon mansion tended to do that to him. If it wasn't the ballroom gilded with gold-leaf to within an inch of its life, it was the Olympic-sized pool out back. He had to struggle for everything, whilst Aaron had life handed to him on a gold plate. And now the bastard had him over a barrel, forcing him to leave his family behind.

He sank down into an overstuffed armchair, ignoring the baseball game playing on the massive flat-screen television in front of him. His enmity with Aaron had started after Ava had been diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer. He hadn't been able to afford the treatment, driving him to Aaron for help, thinking his long friendship with Rachel's family would save his daughter. But Aaron had turned him away from the door, Sarah standing behind him, ashen-faced, the final witness to his humiliation. Rachel had never known what had transpired, and Quincy had never seen fit to enlighten her.

Before his daughter's diagnosis, he'd been approached by a foreign superpower, not for the first time, to double-cross those he worked for, selling the secrets he uncovered in his laboratory. In his field, Quincy was well-known, his work well respected, even if he wasn't. He also held the enviable position of having his expertise sought after by both the CDC and WHO, something he used to take pride in until Aaron stripped even that from him.

But he'd turned down these offers of espionage, even though the amount of money being offered on the table had made his palms sweat. He made enough for him and his family to get by, even as he craved more. But the day had came when enough wasn't enough, forcing him to pick up the phone and accept the Russians' offer, comparing it against his will to the one China had made him the year before. And so it began, the deception infecting all areas of his life. If his wife suspected something, she didn't speak about it, accepting his swollen bank balance with silence.

He had no longer counted his daughter's life in days, but in dollars, buying enough time to save her. Yet even now, when she was in the all-clear, he'd kept dirtying his hands with the Russians, lacking the courage to break their contract. It wasn't an issue of conscience, merely one of inconvenience. He welcomed the money, but not the hassle of having to watch his back. And unknown to him, Aaron was having him monitored. One morning, one of his colleagues, Sergei Makhmudov, had taken him aside, telling him bluntly the game was up, leading him to a deserted labratory and laying his cards out on the table.

Quincy leant his head back, repressing a deep sigh. Out of all the people he would have suspected of being a spy, Sergei wouldn't have been one of them. Tall, wiry Sergei with his crazy curly hair and mocking wit, who used to theatrically flirt with Rachel, enjoying making her wince with his over the top flattery. Like Quincy, he had divided his time between the CDC and WHO, making jokes about his lack of fidelity to either organization, comparing it to keeping two mistresses.

Yet his jokes had a darker edge, hiding the truth in plain sight. He had been unfaithful to his country, betraying his own side just as Quincy had done, informing against the land of his birth. But Quincy hadn't cared about that. He had considered Sergei as his friend. But Sergei had sold out their friendship for Aaron instead. Quincy had trusted Sergei, confided in him about his daughter's cancer, but in the end, none of that mattered. Sergei had said simply that Quincy could join the Arctic mission with Rachel, and leave his family to an uncertain fate, or don an orange boiler-suit, exposing his family to worldwide censure. It had been Quincy's choice, and he had chosen.

"I never took you for a baseball fan," Aaron said from behind Quincy, startling him.

"I'm not," Quincy snapped, reaching for the remote, turning the sound off, "I'm more a chess man."

Aaron held his hands up in mock surrender, hands that now constantly shook. "I know," he said. "Doesn't Sarah whip your ass at chess?"

"Constantly."

Silence.

"Well, you've been checkmated now," Aaron said, laughing bitterly at his own bad joke, "completely caught between a rock and a hard place. If you don't go on this mission to the Arctic, I'll have you suited, booted and sent to Guantanamo Bay before you can even blink. But believe me when I say it's harder on me, than it is on you." He pulled a face of mock pity, making Quincy want to punch him.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, aren't you?" Quincy said from between gritted teeth. "You've lapdanced for the Russians many a time - in fact you must be a veritable veteran of the slow striptease by now."

Aaron just threw back his head and laughed. "You've got me, Quince," he admitted, spreading his still shaking hands out wide, "but unlike you, I have friends in high places."

Quincy's jaw tightened. "Sergei's your CDC contact, isn't he?" he said without ceremony. "He's not just your errand boy, spying and spilling the beans. He sets up situations and shit, doesn't he? Does his little deals like a regular Del Boy, pulling the strings from afar and so forth."

"Sergei is no Rupert Murdoch," Aaron said coolly, "he's a man of conscience. He doesn't agree with what is happening, countries pressurising their biologists into withholding vital information and research that could possibly contribute to a vaccine, maybe even a cure" -

\- "Sergei is a two-faced bastard, Janus in the flesh," Quincy retorted, getting to his feet. "He was the first to spit on anyone that stepped out of line, Rachel included. Everyone she spoke out, he would shut her up. Man of conscience, my arse" -

\- "He was duplicitous for good reason," Aaron flared up. "To do what he's doing, he needs to keep his place at the CDC and WHO, even if it means backstabbing those nearest and dearest to him."

"What, like me?" Quincy snapped. "I considered him _my_ friend, Aaron. When everyone was making jokes about vodka and Katyusha, I stood up for him. When his wife left him for his best friend, I was there for him. But what did Sergei do? He forced me to leave my family behind. No matter what way I turned, it always came down to that, me losing everything" –

\- "I don't care about your failed bromance," Aaron hissed, "Sergei's spying on the Russians for us, at great personal risk, might I add. It was him who gave the Defence Policy Board the heads-up about the search in the Arctic for the primordial strain. Because of him, we might have a chance of stopping this thing" - To his surprise, Quincy started laughing, clutching his sides.

"God, you can drop the act now," Quincy gasped. "I know all about Sarah, about how you're an outcast - 'We might have a chance of stopping this thing'," he quoted, curling his fingers into sarcastic punctuation marks. "There is no 'we'; all there is, is a bunch of social lepers trying and failing to save the world, and what little power and influence you have left is slipping through your fingers like sand."

Aaron stared at him, his face ashen beneath his fake tan.

"It's Sergei who's calling the shots, isn't it?" Quincy taunted. "He's just let you in on the plot because he needs you to pull some strings for him - to get Rachel onboard because she would tell him to go to hell. Sergei's clever; he approached you, knowing you'd play your dying wife as the ace card to get Rachel onside" -

\- "That's not true" -

\- "You didn't know why the vaccine trials weren't working," Quincy spat, rounding on him, "only that they weren't. I only knew because I did a bit of backstabbing on my own" -

\- "You know nothing" -

\- "I'm the best in my field," Quincy said, shaking from head to foot now, "Sergei needs me like he needed Rachel. He just used you to get me, like he got Rachel, blackmailing me into doing his dirty work. He used you to get us on that ship, Evelyn included. Why, I don't know. Maybe he genuinely wants to save the world. Maybe he wants to settle some old scores with the Motherland. I don't know and I don't care. All I know is who is really calling the shots, and it isn't you, Aaron."

Aaron swallowed hard. "I'm in charge, Quincy," he said, his voice cracking, "nobody else, not Sergei" -

\- "Stop living in La-La Land, Aaron," Quincy said brutally. "Mickey Mouse is more capable of leading the nation than you, not in the state you're in."

Aaron forced himself to look Quincy straight in the eye. "Rachel doesn't know about your dealings with the Russians," he said quietly. "She thinks I'm the only one capable of sleeping with the enemy."

"Maybe that was an oversight on Sergei's part," Quincy said sarcastically, "or maybe he just doesn't want Rachel being distracted."

Aaron cast his gaze to the ground, running his hand through his greying hair.

"You know what cock-and-bull story he's given out as the reason for removing me from the frontline?" Quincy continued, unperturbed by Aaron's silence. "Apparently, my 'close friendship' with Rachel is enough to tar me as a traitor to the CDC cause, and because they don't want me blowing me their cover, they're shipping me off to the back of the beyond."

"Rachel's being sent away for the same reason," Aaron said tiredly. "The CDC is backtracking like hell, and they don't want anyone blowing the whistle, Rachel included. If she's out of the way, along with anyone else considered close to her, they might have a chance of covering their own backsides. That's precisely what Sergei's playing on."

"Yeah, because he's the great Puppet-Master," Quincy said, "which is precisely what I keep telling you."

"You know what, I am done with this, with you," Aaron said, turning away from Quincy. "Enjoy the game," he spat, jerking his head at the television. And with that, he was gone, striding up the stairs, taking two at a time.

 _I will never believe what they say_  
 _There is a strength in enduring_  
 _They never speak for themselves_  
 _We are disappearing..._


	4. Hidden In Plain Sight

**Author's Note:** A video for this story can be found on Youtube under **the last ship (evelyn oc & danny) - pieces of your heart**.

* * *

 **Hidden In Plain Sight**

Evelyn lowered her gun, tears rolling down her face, sweat beading her brow, running down her spine. She'd been here for hours, day darkening into night, ruthlessly bringing herself to the brink with bullets, firing round after round at the targets, ruining them beyond recognition. Apart from a misguided internship spent one summer at the CDC, working by her sister's side, Evelyn had wasted her holidays at Aaron and Sarah's house, alternately embarking on shopping and shooting sprees, Aaron taking it upon himself to teach her how to handle a gun, being a firm believer in firearms, having built his own private shooting range out back.

Now at twenty-two, Evelyn was a proficient shot, whilst being a proficient failure elsewhere. She'd dropped in and out of education more times than Rachel would care to remember, Aaron having pulled strings to get her into Cambridge, giving her a generous allowance, as well as paying for her flat and fees. But Evelyn didn't want to learn, only wanting to _live_ , wasting her time getting wasted. Peculiarly pretty, with a strange turn of phrase, she'd captivated Cambridge, capturing her conquest online, documenting her dominion, existing through Instagram, a narrow prism that imprisoned.

She was spoilt but not spoiled, but it would only be a matter of time before the natural kink to her character became a parody of itself, forced and false. Rachel watched Evelyn from afar, worried but more concerned with her work to do much more than that, leaving Sarah to shoulder the burden of what Evelyn had become. Their father had died when Evelyn was too young to remember him, their mother passing away of malaria when Rachel was nine years old, leaving an aunt to act as loco parentis until Sarah had graduated from college.

Rachel remembered her own childhood all too well; a neurotic mother with nicotine stained fingers that shook as they lit up another cigarette; a father who was egalitarian and egotistic, only concerned with past glories and what should have been his due. He'd held some academic standing, possessing the pompous pride of coming from a privileged background, but somewhere along the way, he'd lost it all, spending the rest of his life trying to claw it back. He'd been coldly and deliberately cruel to his wife and daughters; never physically abusive, only inflicting the sharp edge of his tongue on them like a whip, wounding with words, scoring their psyche with scathing sentences.

Evelyn had largely escaped all that, spoiled and sheltered by Sarah, lavished with luxuries, nearly never knowing anything else. It had made her into what she was now, Evelyn accepting no will but her own, taking her gratuitous lifestyle for granted. But beneath the shallow surface was a shrewd brain, Evelyn as capable of finding the perfect blood red shade lipstick as taking a blood sample. She knew her way around a laboratory as well as a shopping mall, if not better. But life had never demanded anything of her, only giving, bestowing gift after gift upon Evelyn like a benevolent godmother.

But in reality, Evelyn had been running up huge debts, and now life had rectified the balance, taking Sarah to settle the score. Her sister was dead, and there was nothing Evelyn could do about it, bitter helplessness making her fire off several more rounds, the recoil rattling the teeth in her head. Nothing mattered anymore. Rachel had said the world was going to end, but for Evelyn, it already had.

* * *

 _There's a fear I have, a feeling real bad_  
 _I'm final if I find out that I'm not I'll be sad_  
 _I try to cry, to thoughts in the night_  
 _Oh, they got me thinking, I'd be happier just drinking…_

Rachel paced the floor of her room, the cell-like simplicity of its style doing nothing to subdue the storm tearing through her, making her suddenly kick aside an antique console table, knocking it over. Sarah had loved scouring junk shops for one off pieces, sourcing much of the utilitarian furniture in Rachel's room, knowing her sister's taste ran in less extravagant lines than her own. Wherever Rachel looked, there was always something to remind her of Sarah, the sight stabbing her through the heart time and time again.

But if she wasn't being tortured by the thought of her sister dying alone and frightened, thinking her family had abandoned her, Rachel was being tormented by the niggling knowledge she was missing something that was staring her right in the face. But what it was, she couldn't put her finger on it. She had all the information she needed to know, using it as a starting point to begin her own search for a cure, Rachel confident in her own abilities to achieve this. Without arrogance, she knew she was one of the best, if not _the_ best, in her field, and if anybody could create a vaccine, it would be her.

Yet still it persisted she was missing the bigger picture, Rachel unable to unravel the riddle, making her feel uncharacteristically helpless. She turned wildly on the spot, the walls beginning to close in on her, starting to suffocate, smother. Without thinking, Rachel fled the room, only to collide into Aaron, nearly knocking him over. Not stopping to see if he was alright, as if he really deserved such a consideration after what he'd done, she shoved him aside, before running down the hall, not knowing where she was going, her feet carrying her into Sarah's study, Rachel barely registering the book-lined walls.

"Rach?"

Her younger sister's voice snapped Rachel out of her stupor, caught as always by the distinctive burr of her accent, Mayfair meeting Manhattan, the clashing of cultures present within the way she rolled her R's. Despite having lived and worked in America for many years now, Rachel had retained her own clipped vowels, Quincy joking she was a veritable ambassador for Estuary English.

"What is it?" Rachel snapped, rounding on Evelyn, only to freeze at the sight of her ravaged face. Evelyn had changed out of her flowing maxi-dress, and into a vest top and sweat pants, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, the mascara staining her cheeks like warpaint. "Good God, Evy," Rachel said, reaching for her sister, drawing her into her embrace, "you look like hell."

"So do you," Evelyn retorted, her vanity momentarily stung, before suddenly collapsing against Rachel's shoulder, breaking down into bitter tears again.

"I know," Rachel whispered, smoothing back her hair, fighting her own grief, "I know."

* * *

"She says this is where the magic happens," Evelyn said, gesturing around the book-lined walls, her words making Rachel ruefully smile, the gesture oddly alien amidst her pain.

"She says her books are her children," Rachel remembered, running her fingers along the wooden patina of Sarah's desk.

"Sarah says a lot of things," Evelyn snorted, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "and not all of them repeatable."

"Sarah had a screw or two missing," Rachel said, twirling her finger round the side of her head, indicating madness, only to freeze, Evelyn doing the same, both of them realizing Rachel had referred to Sarah in the past tense.

"We don't get to grieve like normal people, do we?" Evelyn asked bluntly, fighting the tears again.

"No, we don't," Rachel said tiredly, sitting down in Sarah's leather armchair. "We have to carry on without looking back."

"But I'll always be looking back," Evelyn argued, " _always_."

Rachel looked away, unwillingly recognizing the truth of Evelyn's words. They would always be looking back, never forwards, unable to ever find closure. Out in the Arctic, she would be haunted by the thought of _what if_. There had been no body to bury, no funeral to attend, no grave to visit. It was as if Sarah had never been born, erased out of existence. But her books lived on, her words echoing through eternity, stories spun from her fingers, tales that time couldn't take away.

"I can't believe this is happening," Evelyn muttered, pacing the polished floorboards, "I just _can't_."

"Who's James?" Rachel asked suddenly, remembering Evelyn's outburst from earlier.

"He's my boyfriend," Evelyn said reluctantly, "or he was. He chucked me. Said my hippy style was harming his image or some shit."

"An Honorable?" Rachel hazarded, also remembering Evelyn's preference for politically connected pretty boys.

"His dad's high up in Parliament," Evelyn snapped, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She thought she loved James, but the emotion was already fading, eclipsed by agony, the knowledge of Sarah's death sounding like a klaxon within the confines of her skull, anaesthetizing her to anything else.

" _James_ is the name of the ship we'll be travelling on," Rachel said almost absentmindedly, picking up a paperweight.

"I thought it was the _Nathan James_?" Evelyn said, frowning.

"I know," Rachel lied, setting the paperweight down, "I was just testing you."

"What, don't think I can hack it as your research assistant?" Evelyn said dangerously, her fists unconsciously flexing by her sides. "Think I'll fuck it up" –

\- "Everything is fucked up already," Rachel retorted, startling Evelyn, "I don't think you can fuck it up any further." But before Evelyn could frame an answer to that, Rachel's phone suddenly went off, the strains of Beethoven's _Symphony No. 9 (Scherzo)_ setting Evelyn's teeth on edge, grating on her ear. "Excuse me," Rachel said almost automatically, before going out into the hallway, Evelyn watching her go. As Rachel glanced down at the screen, she saw it was an unknown number, making her tense up. "Hello?" she said, brow furrowing, studying a rare Degas on the wall.

" _Hidden in plain sight_ ," a little girl said in a distorted monotone, her voice strangely distorted, the sound making Rachel straighten up.

"Who is this?"

" _Hidden in plain sight_."

Rachel cut the call off, staring at the screen, her hands sweating, shaking. As she stood there, the world rearranging itself into lines she no longer recognized, something suddenly became blindingly obviously clear.

"Are you alright, Rach?" Evelyn asked, coming out into the hall, face concerned.

"I know the origin of the virus," Rachel breathed, turning to face her, "where I can find a sample of the primordial strain."

"It's in the Arctic though, isn't it?" Evelyn said, frowning. "That's where the Russians are looking" -

\- "But it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack," Rachel said, clutching her phone for dear life, "but I know _exactly_ where to look."

Evelyn just looked blankly at her, not understanding.

"It's the Arctic terns," Rachel said, starting to lose patience, "hidden in plain sight."

"But that's just a cover story" -

\- "Hidden in plain sight, Evy," Rachel said quietly, "just like you."


	5. Trojan Horse

**Author's N** **ote:** A fan-fiction trailer for this story can be found on Youtube under: **if i stay (evelyn oc) - the last ship fanfiction trailer**.

* * *

 **Trojan Horse**

"Cheer up, Quince," Evelyn said sarcastically, flinging her fork down, "it's only the end of the world."

"Keep your voice down, Evie," Rachel hissed, glancing around them as she pushed her plate aside. They were holed up in a discreet hotel near where the _Nathan James_ was homeported, having their last meal on dry land before boarding. The prospect of embarking to the Arctic on a possible wild goose-chase for a cure was now finally hitting Rachel in full force, making her hands shake, concealing them under the table out of sight. Rachel had never been one for backing down, and she wasn't going to start now, struggling not to allow herself to be intimidated.

"Yeah, keep your trap closed, _Evelyn_ ," Quince snapped, breaking a brown roll in half, imagining it was Evelyn's neck, "or you'll give the whole damn game away."

"Don't tell me to shut up" -

\- "Unfortunately for you, _Evelyn_ , Quince has an _extremely_ valid point," Rachel cut across Evelyn in a cut-glass accent, every syllable stingingly sarcastic, "so I suggest you take a few moments to appreciate the finer points of his argument. At all times we will have to maintain our front of being virologists studying the humble Arctic tern, deceiving 217 Navy personnel while we're at it. So I strongly suggest you affect a demure demeanour and adopt the epithet _silence is golden_."

Evelyn just looked at Rachel, the narrow-eyed look of old, Rachel remembering Evelyn giving Sarah the very same look when she was a little girl and not getting her own way. Then Evelyn dropped her gaze, picking up a piece of burnt white toast instead, her fingertips digging into the flaking bread. She would probably never set foot in Cambridge again, the story having been given out that she'd dropped out of yet another degree, her possessions discreetly packed up and shipped into storage, Evelyn's existence now reduced to nothing more than an image on Instagram.

As Quincy leaned over the table for the salt, preferring not to ask Evelyn to pass him it instead, his phone suddenly went off, a rave number that made Rachel flinch, Evelyn starting violently, nearly choking on her toast.

"What did I say about mobile phones, Quincy!?" Rachel snapped, glancing around her, only to see the accusing stares of their fellow diners, Evelyn sarcastically fluttering her fingers at them, Rachel grabbing her hand, feeling like she was on the edge of taking an apoplectic fit.

"I'll ditch it before we board, alright?" Quincy hissed, pulling his phone out of his pocket, something in his face making Rachel suddenly feel stricken with guilt. He hadn't spoken of his family, what would happen to them in his absence; what story he had spun them, having been forbidden to tell the truth, but Rachel could see it was costing Quincy to be here, every breath and blink taken a struggle, his existence now a great effort. But as she watched him stalk through the swing doors of the dining room, she suddenly wondered exactly what card Aaron had played to ensure Quincy's participation in the game they were gambling the fate of the world upon.

As Quincy made his way to an out of the way corner in the corridor, he glanced down at his mobile phone, only to see that it was an unknown number. Frowning, he took the call, pressing his back against the wall, careful to keep an eye out for any unwelcome interruptions. "Hello?" he said, brow furrowing.

"Trojan Horse," a little girl said in a dull monotone, her voice distorted, but Quincy would know his own child anywhere, the knowledge making him stand bolt upright, eyes widening in shock, panic almost paralysing him. " _Trojan Horse_."

"Ava?" Quincy gasped, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. "Baby girl" -

\- "Your baby girl is perfectly fine," a heavy Russian accent informed him, "and so is your charming wife – for now. If you want them to stay this way, I suggest you listen, and very carefully. Do you understand?"

"Y-y-yes."

"I shall keep it brief," the voice drawled, "time is of the essence and I understand you are due to board the _USS Nathan James_ very soon. Somebody has informed the American bastards that I was planning on taking a little jaunt to the Arctic to do some bird-watching, right where the _Nathan James_ would be sojourning. As you can understand, there is now a major diplomatic crisis going down behind the scenes, wherein nobody, not even my own side, believes that my presence in the Arctic would be entirely innocent, heroic even. Do you follow?"

"Yes," Quincy whispered, sweat beading on his brow.

"I am now unfortunately landlocked," the voice said, sighing heavily, "my noble intentions tainted and soiled – but enough of that. As I speak, a mass cover-up is being orchestrated, the _Nathan James_ to leave Norfolk as scheduled, with you onboard, Quincy Tophet. If the mountain will not come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain… If I cannot go to where the cure is, you will bring the cure to me, Quincy. If not... well, we do not need to dwell on such distasteful subjects. You know more than I do what is expected of you; what is at stake if you do not exceed my expectations."

 _The mirror shows not_ _  
_ _Your values are all shot…_


	6. Blackbird Song

**Blackbird Song**

 _Pack your things_ _  
_ _Leave somehow_ _  
_ _Blackbird song_ _  
_ _Is over now…_

" 'The Spear of the Navy'," Evelyn quoted, her grey gaze travelling over the banner draped over the side of the ship's cat-walk above them, the wind whipping the hair into her eyes. Pulling off a hairtie from her wrist, she tied her hair back as she turned to face Rachel, snapping it into place with more force than necessary, making Rachel raise her eyebrows.

"Remember, Evie," Rachel said quietly, sensing the storm that was her sister was about to break overhead, "we have to keep up appearances."

"You may have destroyed my sense of style," Evelyn snapped, gesturing to her frayed jeans and crumpled checked shirt, the last word in dowdiness in her eyes, "but I won't let you pulverise my personality."

"I see that expensive education hasn't been wasted on you after all," Quincy said sarcastically, pacing the helicopter bay that would serve as their base, " _pulverise_ – such an... _exotic_ word to use" -

\- "Stop bloody squabbling," Rachel snapped this time, remembering against her will how Sarah would step in and intermediate between all, playing peacemaker, the memory making the tears sting the back of her eyes. But she did not have the luxury of grieving; she had wept and screamed and fought the fate of her family in vain, but to no avail. Now she had to set aside her anguish and meet the future head-on, bearing the burden of the world upon her back like Atlas, unable to look back at what had been lost or left behind.

"I promise to be a good boy, mummy," Quincy said, rolling his eyes, "don't put me on the naughty step."

Rachel just turned away from him, refusing to be drawn further into the fray, knowing Quincy was blaming her wholly for his being here. But even as he did, she blamed herself, feeling fresh guilt over being unable to save his family, only able to spare Evelyn from the forthcoming slaughter.

As Rachel then lifted up a cardboard box marked FRAGILE, averting her gaze from the label stating _CDC_ , Evelyn wandered away, Rachel and Quincy having forbidden her from helping, convinced she would cause chaos. The USS Nathan James was a hub of activity, with Navy personnel thronging the decks, items being unloaded, the snap of salt in the air stinging Evelyn's eyes. Something wet bumped against the back of her hand, startling Evelyn, but as she glanced down, it was only to see an Alsatian staring up at her in expectation, bumping its nose against her knuckles again, almost as if it was reminding her of its presence.

The USS Nathan James was a hub of activity, with Navy personnel thronging the decks, items being unloaded, the snap of salt in the air stinging Evelyn's eyes. Something wet bumped against the back of her hand, startling Evelyn, but as she glanced down, it was only to see an Alsatian staring up at her in expectation, bumping its nose against her knuckles again, almost as if it was reminding her of its presence.

"Hey there," Evelyn said, kneeling down, "what's a dog like you doing in a place like this?" Exhaling sharply, she petted its head almost absentmindedly, her attention wandering again, Evelyn glancing around, only to see a tall khaki-clad man heading at top speed in her direction.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" he said angrily, drawing level with her, Evelyn immediately getting to her feet.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Evelyn retorted as somebody shouted _starboard hangar!_ from overhead.

"I'm talking about you handling Navy property without permission," the man said stiffly, indicating the Alsatian, who was now wagging its tail, pleased at being the centre of attention.

"C'mon, Danny," another man said, coming up the side of them, "you love that dog more than your mother."

"Shut up," Danny said, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, "and leave my mother out of this. Lady Muck shouldn't be touching the damn dog in the first place."

" _That_ dog is our colleague," the other man corrected him, "and I'm Lieutenant Franklin Benz of the Naval Mountain Warfare Unit. That rude son of a bitch is our leader, the venerable Lieutenant Daniel Green."

"What's the dog called?" Evelyn said smartly, shaking his proffered hand.

"Admiral Halsey," Danny said defensively, patting Halsey possessively, "and he's not just a dog." He hunched his shoulders, obviously regretting his earlier admission Halsey was just a 'damn dog'.

"What, he's a cat?" Evelyn taunted.

"No, he's a mean operator, just like our captain," Franklin said with a wink, before leading Danny away by the arm, Halsey following at their heels, neither party failing to notice that Evelyn hadn't offered her own name.

"Evelyn!"

She turned around at the sound of her sister's raised voice, only to see Rachel almost clinging to a clipboard, making Evelyn roll her eyes. Exhaling sharply again, she made her way back to the helicopter bay, glancing over her shoulder as she moved, only to see Danny doing the same thing, looking directly in her direction, blue eyes narrowing. " _Prick_ ," she muttered under her breath, giving him a sarcastic wave, "I wasn't trying to steal your stupid dog."

"Making friends are we?" Rachel asked sarcastically as Evelyn drew level with her, both sisters looking alike, wearing almost identical annoyed expressions.

"Just getting down with the local dickheads," Evelyn said tersely. "It's a dirty job but somebody has to do it."

"Somebody has to wash their mouth out with soap," Quincy snapped. "Your language is absolutely _foul_."

"So is your breath. Ever heard of a toothbrush?"

"That's enough, both of you!" Rachel hissed, before rounding on Evelyn, slamming down her clipboard. "And don't bloody wander off again, alright?"

"I'm twenty-two, not two" -

\- "Just put that down over there, please," Rachel demanded, completely ignoring Evelyn's outburst, advancing upon a sailor instead who was beginning to unload a large pile of cardboard boxes in the helicopter bay.

Rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time, Evelyn turned away, only to nearly walk smack bang into a powerfully built stranger clad in a Naval uniform of spotless white, the man steadying her with large capable hands. "Whoa, hold your horses, kid," he grinned, dropping his hands to his side, "what's the rush? Justin Bieber in port?"

"Do I look like a Belieber to you?" Evelyn snapped, recovering herself, folding her arms across her chest.

The man tilted his head to the side, his eyes very blue beneath the peaked black brim of his white cap. "Maybe," he said lightly, only to suddenly take off his cap as Rachel rushed past, carrying two brightly coloured plastic cases by their handles.

"Can I help you, sir?" Rachel asked, slowing to a stop, green eyes quizzical.

"I take it you all are my new house-guests," the man said, glancing at Evelyn and Quincy, passing his cap between his hands as he spoke, the gesture oddly boyish against the backdrop of his brooding features, "I'm Commander Chandler, the ship's captain" -

\- "Would you be careful with that bloody equipment!?" Rachel yelled at the sailor as he put down a box too heavily, the loud bang echoing around the helicopter bay, the sailor immediately straightening up and saluting the captain. "It requires extremely delicate handling!"

"And so do my ears," Evelyn said, clamping her hands over them, making Rachel glare at her.

"Sorry," Rachel said stiffly to Commander Chandler, carefully putting down the plastic cases, before proffering her hand, "I'm Rachel Scott and these are my colleagues, Quincy Tophet and Evelyn Scott."

"You related?" Commander Chandler said, saluting the offending solder in turn, before shaking her hand.

"Yeah, we are, so what?" Evelyn snapped, instantly on the defensive, making Commander Chandler glance sharply at her, sensing something behind her outburst.

"She's my sister," Rachel said smartly, stepping in front of Evelyn, "as they say, we like to keep it in the family," she finished, gesturing around her at the research equipment cluttering up the helicopter bay.

"You got a name, Navy boy?" Evelyn said sarcastically, stepping in front of Rachel this time. "Or do we just chant Commander everytime we have to grovel in the dust before you?"

"Evelyn!" Rachel reprimanded, rounding on Evelyn again, her pretty face turning puce.

"It's okay," Commander Chandler interceded, holding up his hand, looking amused against his will. "I can handle myself - although I would hardly call myself a boy, not if you're judging by this." He gestured self-deprecatingly to his silver hair neatly brushed back from a broad brow, making Evelyn raise her eyebrows in expectation of his answer. "Off-duty, I'm Thomas," he said, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, "or Tom, whatever you prefer, kid."

Evelyn just looked at him, eyes narrowing, not liking being patronized.

Rachel glanced at Evelyn, seeing the warning signs. "I'm sorry we had to take over your helicopter bay," she interjected, swiftly changing the subject, "but it was the only space large enough to accommodate our lab."

"Don't worry," Tom said with a small smile, "I have 217 men and women on this ship so I'm sure I can... accommodate you." He glanced around at the chaotic confines of what had been his helicopter bay, watching as Quincy started unpacking hazard suits. "Is there anything I should be concerned about?" he asked abruptly, turning to Rachel again, his smile suddenly slipping. "Science experiments and ships don't exactly mix."

"Don't get into a tizzy, Tom," Evelyn said sweetly, "it doesn't become you."

"What are you studying anyways?" Tom asked Rachel, ignoring Evelyn, no longer amused but becoming rather annoyed at her aggressive outbursts.

"Birds," Rachel said, picking up the plastic cases again, "we're virologists tracking obscure microbes in isolated areas – Evelyn is our research assistant. Pretty boring stuff really but we appreciate your assistance, Captain Chandler." She smiled at him, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Tom not missing this.

"It's _Commander_ Chandler," Evelyn corrected her.

"We're here to serve," Tom said formally to Rachel, acting as if Evelyn didn't exist. He carefully set his cap upon his head again, before making to leave, only to hesitate. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Scott," he said quietly, bowing his head, before turning and leaving, Rachel watching him go.


	7. War Of Hearts

**War Of Hearts**

 _Four months later_

Evelyn tapped the side of the glass case, making tiny ears twitch, before making her way over to Rachel's makeshift workspace, sitting down on an upturned crate, gnawing her lip nervously. "Looks like it's just us, Pinky and the Brain," she said to the two closest white mice, her voice sounding too loud in the small space, echoing oddly. She'd named all the mice, going against Rachel's advice she didn't get too attached, but in this new life, there wasn't much to love.

Four months had passed of radio silence, Evelyn struggling to keep silent, living a lie. At night, in the cabin she shared with Rachel, she wrestled with her terror and grief, not knowing if Rachel endured the same agonies, her sister becoming a stranger, Quincy almost unbearable in the long evenings they spent hunched over microscopes, studying specimens that never made sense.

As fear continued to flay Evelyn, Rachel refused to be mastered by her own anxiety, setting aside her emotions as she continued her fight to find a cure, presenting a cool and collected front to what was left of the world, hardly holding herself together. Time was against her, and she was barely holding it back with her bare hands, working herself to the bone to discover what was so desperately needed. Even as Evelyn and Quincy worked beside her, it felt like they were thousands of miles from her, oddly out of reach despite being so close.

As the sisters struggled in their own ways, Quincy was living in hell, his life reduced to a house of cards that could collapse any time. He was deceiving not just the crew of the USS _Nathan James_ , but also Rachel and Evelyn in turn, buying his family borrowed time by betraying those who trusted him. Whenever the sisters were absent, he would steal into the helicopter bay and use the concealed satellite phone to disclose their latest discoveries to those who held his wife and daughter hostage. He never knew who was on the other end of the line; there would be a click and then silence, a void only disturbed by Quincy's shaking voice as he sold secrets for the sake of his family's survival.

There was the sudden crackle of static, Evelyn closing her eyes as the deep reassuring tones of Tom Chandler filled the room, chasing away the silence. Sometimes his voice was the only company she had, Evelyn holding onto the sound like a rope, using the ship announcements to keep herself anchored to this existence.

 _Good afternoon, Nathan James, this is the captain. After four very challenging months at the top of the world, we have just passed our final test, and I'm proud to say you did it with flying colours. I'm asking the Pentagon if we can break radio silence today to make calls and email._ _Bravo Zulu_ _to each and every one of you. Enjoy your success, 'cause we're going home._

Evelyn wrapped her arms around her head, knowing too well that home was nothing more than a myth, that Rachel was railing against a fate already decided. Nature was now taking her revenge for all the wrongs done to her, settling old scores, stabbing her enemies in the back, striking them straight through the heart.

Time slowly travelled into oblivion, silence returning, Evelyn drowning in the darkness of her thoughts. "Look, it's Little Girl Lost," a mocking voice said from the doorway, making Evelyn's head snap up, only to see Danny Green standing there, Franklin Benz beside him, looking uncomfortable, both dressed in blinding white, wrapped up against the freezing Arctic cold. "I see you got left behind – again," Danny continued, stepping forwards, something like suspicion flickering behind his blue eyes.

"I'm holding the fort," Evelyn said smartly as she stood up, struggling to stay civil, disliking Danny more than ever. Four months had not improved their acquaintance any, the two of them unable to stop making digs at one another whenever they crossed paths. Even as Rachel and Quincy stayed mostly in the helicopter bay and their mutual cabins, keeping their own company, Evelyn led a peculiar half-life whenever she wasn't working, creeping around the corridors or pacing the deck, speaking to all and sundry, yet remaining oddly isolated for all that.

"We're heading out to get your sister and colleague," Franklin said hastily, glancing curiously around the helicopter bay, no longer recognizing it. "It's going to drop fifty below on the ice."

"Oh, our dear Commander is calling them in, then?" Evelyn said acidly, trying to distract Franklin as his gaze briefly wandered over to the closed off area where Rachel and Quincy conducted their studies, experiments executed for the sake of all existence. "Well, it's very sweet of you to come and tell me, but I'm a very busy girl, so toddle off, darlings."

"I think we're being dismissed, Danny," Franklin said deadpan, before turning and leaving with a wink at Evelyn, who just shook her head, repressing a strained smile. Out of everyone onboard, Franklin was the friendliest with Evelyn, operating without agenda, always open and warm. As she watched Franklin and Danny leave, she wondered at how Franklin was friends with somebody like Danny, but then again, from what she'd observed of Lieutenant Green, there seemed to be more to the man than first thought, Evelyn always managing to bring out his bad side. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and now neither could put the past behind them and move on, only continuing to offend and insult one another.

Exhaling sharply, Evelyn sat back down again, wringing her hands, feeling like the walls were closing in on her. Rachel and Quincy had gone out to gather samples, Evelyn always exiled from such expeditions, Rachel unable to trust the unpredictable Evelyn out in the field. "I _should_ be out there," Evelyn muttered to the mice, "and I _will_ be."

* * *

"You really think we can do this?"

The words were almost whipped away by the wind, but Rachel heard, making her hesitate. "We have to," she said, shielding her eyes with the back of her hand. "There's no other choice."

Quincy resumed his digging, snow striking his face like bullets, the hood of his parka not affording much protection. "You misunderstand me," he said, stabbing his spade into the ground, "whilst I have no doubts you'll save the world singlehandedly, I have reservations about us as a collective."

Rachel glanced up from the ground, her brow furrowing, caught offguard by the unexpected compliment. " _We_ can do this, Quince," she said slowly, "and we will."

"Whilst your faith in me is touching," Quincy said, examining one of the specimen jars, "I can't extend the same emotion to Evelyn. She's the weak link in the chain, Rachel."

"She" -

\- "She has an interesting intellect she condescends to use on occasion," Quincy cut across her, putting on his snow goggles, "and an attitude problem the size of Everest. Evelyn isn't going to ascend the evolutionary ladder by suddenly becoming noble and self-sacrificing at the end of the world. That's not her nature. All that matters to Evelyn is Evelyn."

"She's just lashing out" -

\- "We can't afford for Evelyn to throw her toys out of the pram whenever the fancy takes her," Quincy snapped, "we have to literally keep up appearances!"

Rachel bit her lip, the rift of resentment that existed between them suddenly flaring into being, no longer an undercurrent they tried and failed to control. Quincy never raised the question of why Rachel had left Sarah behind, why one sister was suddenly more important than the other. He'd never implied that Evelyn should have remained under Aaron's protection, that his status would shield Evelyn as always, Evelyn the daughter Aaron had never had. But he'd also never shown he'd knew the secret of Sarah's death, acting as if she was still alive, Rachel's suspicions on that score separating them, her doubts dividing them further, never sure if he was lying or not.

The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of approaching engines, making Rachel whip around, brandishing her spade like a blade. "You have got to be kidding me..." Rachel muttered mutinously, rising to her feet as two snowmobiles crested the hill behind them. "We're so close," she said, her voice cracking, "we – we need to make sure the ice looks uncontaminated" - Breaking off her sentence, she hastily turned and kneeled down, fingers scrabbling wildly amongst the broken chunks of surface. "We need more samples," she said through gritted teeth, "this isn't enough" -

\- "Rachel, it's alright," Quincy said tiredly as the two men dismounted their snowmobiles, "we can come back tomorrow."

"We don't have tomorrow," Rachel said, shaking her head.

* * *

Evelyn rounded the corner, munching on an apple one of the female sailors had slipped into her hand with a smile, the sweet taste strangely bitter on her tongue. As she wandered along the corridor, she had the vague feeling as always she was trespassing, but again as always, she ignored it. Walking aimlessly took Evelyn out of herself, letting her feet lead the way, not really caring where they took her. There was a restlessness in her soul, the long hours of being locked away only serving to increase her impatience -

"We have to stop doing this."

"Why?"

"Because we're risking _everything_ we're working for."

"Can we not have both? We _have_ both, Kara."

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" There was a smile hidden in that voice, the voice Evelyn irrationally hated above all others, a smile that she couldn't imagine him having.

"And don't smile like that either, you know what that smile does to me, Lieutenant."

"Is it wrong for me to say I really like it when you call me Lieutenant?"

There was the sound of soft laughter, then silence, only broken by the sound of heavy breathing, Evelyn too embarrassed to escape, pressing her back against the wall instead, just out of sight of the doorway where Danny Green was rendezvousing with his latest pretty paramour. In her imagination, he besmirched every female of good virtue on the ship, charming their defences down, Evelyn's wild imaginings a far cry from less than riveting reality. But in that moment, her every imagining was justified, Evelyn closing her eyes, wincing as the unseen woman whispered Danny's name, the sound uncomfortably intimate. As she did, the half-eaten apple slipped from her fingers, landing with a loud splat on the floor.

"Who's there?" Danny demanded, appearing in the doorway, his face horribly flushed. "Oh, it's you," he sneered upon seeing Evelyn, her own face flaming, "why should I be surprised?"

Kara stepped out from behind him, only to freeze upon seeing Evelyn, who barely recognized her as Lieutenant Foster, the two having exchanged slightly strained smiles in passing on occasion. "Shit-shit- _shit_ ," she said, smoothing back her black hair as she moved, trying and failing nonchalance. "I told you we should stop all this, Danny!" she snapped, rounding on him. "It's not worth the risk!"

"What?" Danny said in disbelief. "It's worth _everything_ , Kara!"

"What happens if it's the captain next time," Kara said, her voice cracking, gesturing wildly at Evelyn, "or Frankie" -

\- "He would cover for us" -

\- "You would ask him to compromise his career?"

Danny looked away, running his hand over his hair, suddenly looking very vulnerable.

"I gave up so much to get here, Danny," Kara said, tears filling her eyes, "to get away from" - She turned away, unable to give voice to her past, the rolling fields she'd fled from and a mother who drowned her sorrows.

"Um, is this illegal?" Evelyn said hesitantly, gesturing between Danny and Kara, her brow furrowing. "Because it all sounds rather prohibited."

"What, are you threatening us?" Danny said, rounding on her as swift as a snake, looming over her.

"No, I'm not," Evelyn snapped, squaring up to him, "it's none of my business. I'm just curious that's all."

"I didn't know I could add voyeurism to your list of sins."

"I wasn't spying on you," Evelyn retorted, face reddening, Danny's dig hitting home, "I just panicked."

"You froze like the metaphorical deer in the headlights?"

"Yes, exactly."

Danny just scoffed. "You're just a little pervert," he said, shaking his head, "a devious deviant."

"Is this going anywhere?" Kara interjected impatiently.

"I was going to ask dear Evelyn the same thing," Danny said, turning to her, making Evelyn stiffen, realizing too late he'd been parodying her peculiar speech patterns.

"I'm not a tattle-tale," Evelyn said tersely, "so no, this, whatever _this_ is," she said, gesturing between Danny and Kara again, "stops here."

"You can say that again," Kara said sarcastically, before walking away, shaking off Danny's hand on her arm.

"Trouble in paradise then?" Evelyn said, leaning against the wall, watching Danny watch Kara disappear around the corner.

"What do you care?" Danny snapped, rounding on her again.

"I don't," Evelyn said, shrugging her shoulder, "but I can see you do."

Danny just looked at her for a long moment, trying to gauge if she was mocking him or not. "I do give a damn," he said, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, "but she gives a damn about this gig more than me."

"Don't you value your position?"

"I do," Danny burst out, "but Kara" - He bowed his head, turning away from Evelyn, shutting her out. This wasn't the first time he'd had this fight with Kara, their hearts at war, duty battling desire. He cared about Kara, but she seemed to care about her career more, dividing them from one another. But he didn't expect to understand, having known nothing but a mostly happy family life, not being driven by Kara's demons.

"She obviously cares about you," Evelyn said uneasily, this kind of close conversation with Danny sitting ill on her shoulders, unused to such discourse, "but it's easy to become caught between what you need and what you want."

"Yeah, whatever," Danny said, shaking his head, effectively ending the subject. "We brought your sister and your colleague back," he said, scrunching up his eyes, "she wasn't too happy."

"When is she?" Evelyn said before she could stop herself.

"Well, it was either that or she would have found herself with a very frozen butt," Danny said sharply. "You should remind her that it's not Toy-Town out there. This is the Arctic we're talking about."

"Is it?" Evelyn said, feigning confusion. "And there was me thinking we were discussing the finer points of Claude Monet's brushwork."

Danny just looked at her as if she were mad before shaking his head and leaving, hunching his shoulders as he went.

 _I can't help but be wrong in the dark_ _  
_ _Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts_ _  
_ _I can't help but want oceans to part_ _  
_ _Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts…_


	8. Shrinking Universe

**Shrinking Universe**

"Rachel!" Evelyn yelled, seeing a flash of long brown hair up ahead. "Rachel!" Cursing, she elbowed her way through the throng of pipes and people, hating as always the claustrophobic confines of the ship's interior.

"Evelyn," Rachel said curtly over her shoulder, slowly down slightly so her sister could catch up with her, "this isn't the time." Even as she spoke, she immediately sped up, determined to find the captain and give him a piece of her mind, almost looking forward to venting her frustration out on him. She desperately needed more samples, and his orders were impeding her progress, Rachel seeing any chance of locating a cure swiftly slipping from her grasp.

"I need to come out with you tomorrow," Evelyn said in a wild rush, pushing the hair out of her eyes, struggling to keep up, "you can't keep leaving me behind" -

\- "I can and I will," Rachel said abruptly, her head suddenly snapping up at the sight of Tom Chandler striding down the corridor towards them, Mike Slattery, the serving executive officer of the ship, close by his side. "Commander Chandler," she barked, marching up to him, making Tom slow to a startled stop, Mike pressing himself against the pipes, "you had no right to pull me from my work."

Recovering himself, Tom just smiled down at Rachel, looking almost amused by her anger, Mike taking a different view on the situation. "I'm gonna go and check on the..." he said, his voice trailing off into oblivion, before he made his escape from Rachel's fishwife tones. Tom watched him go, his smile becoming a full-blown grin, before turning back to Rachel, folding his arms across his broad chest, awaiting her next outburst.

"Your men are here to support me," Rachel continued clippedly, his now obvious amusement enraging her even further, even as she struggled to subdue her temper, "you don't send them to bring me in like some naughty schoolgirl caught skipping school."

"These men are good sailors of the U.S Navy" -

\- "I'll say when I'm done and ready," Rachel cut across him, "and my work is vital here. I have finally found what I'm looking for" -

\- "Doctor!" Tom bellowed, startling her into silence, suddenly no longer amused. "I apologize," he then said more softly, bowing his head, "but I issue orders on good grounds."

"But" -

\- "I think this is the first time you've ever said more than three words to me since we left Norfolk," Tom interrupted, raising his head as he spoke, his words startling Rachel again, "I must say, it's an interesting experience."

Rachel just stared at him, caught against her will by the mischievous glint which had returned to his grey eyes, a grin threatening to spread across his face again. "Well, I'm sorry I haven't had you over for tea," she said smartly, glancing up as Evelyn finally dared to edge over, looking somewhat nervous at the showdown that was playing out before her. "I have a darling tea-set that's just dying to be drank from."

"You know, that attitude that seems to be the dominant Scott family trait was mildly charming back in Virginia," Tom said, looming over her, sparing Evelyn a pointed sideways glance as well, "but up here at fifty below, when none of us have seen or spoken to our families in four months, not so charming."

"Well, charm isn't exactly my priority" -

\- "Still talking," Tom cut across Rachel this time, holding his finger up, signaling silence. "Now, I think I've been more than a gracious host," he continued, ignoring Rachel's furious face, "ferrying you and your assistant around, whilst tolerating your little sister's wandering about the ship when she probably should have been working. But that's none of my business," he said, turning to Evelyn, making her jaw tighten, "obviously this career path doesn't agree with you. I just can't help but think somebody else would have appreciated the opportunity to come out here" -

\- "What, you think she jumped the job queue by exploiting her connections?" Rachel said stiffly, struggling to keep her voice steady, forcing herself to forget why she and her sister found themselves here in the first place.

"Well, who in their right mind would want to freeze their arse off?" Evelyn flared up, forgetting herself in turn. "It's hardly the stuff dreams are made of, is it, chasing bloody ducks" -

\- "It's Arctic terns," Rachel said in an undertone, half closing her eyes.

"See what I'm saying, Doctor?" Tom said, running a large hand over his silver hair. "Your sister's wasting her time here, and yours, which is why it's probably good timing" -

\- "What on earth are you talking about?" Rachel said in disbelief. "Good timing how exactly?"

\- "Our mission is done and we'll be heading back," Tom said, making to leave, "so you'll have to wrap up your work here, something I think your sister will be happy about." He winked at Evelyn, who turned away from him. "I'll take a raincheck on the tea," he then said in an aside to Rachel, who just stood there, face bloodless, fists clenched by her sides, "but pass on my best wishes to that darling tea-set of yours."

As he left, Evelyn turned back to Rachel, her own face pale. "That's what I was trying to tell you," she said, her voice cracking, glancing around as she spoke, the cramped confines of their surroundings empty apart from them, "that you need me out there with you. It was announced earlier that the ship was breaking radio silence - we've _wasted_ so much time, Rachel, and I could have done so much more than rinsing out test-tubes" -

\- "What else could you have done?" Rachel hissed, rounding on her. "What skills, what experience, what qualifications do you have? Your knowledge is full of holes and your experience even more so. I could have taught you so much but you didn't want to learn, so what happened, Evelyn? I left you behind to do the gruntwork, that's what, and for bloody good reason too. Alright, you don't want to be here, and I completely understand why, but I needed you with me on this. But you weren't onboard; it was just all about you all the time" -

\- "You shut me out" -

\- "I shut down," Rachel retorted, kicking the wall, "I kept it together. Good old stiff upper lip so I could get shit done. Every single second on this ship was spent on our work, but even then, it's obviously not been enough."

Evelyn stared at her sister, tears pooling in her eyes, fingers curling into fists. "I'm... I'm sorry," she said with some difficulty. "I... I should have done more. I should have helped you more" -

\- "Oh, Evie," Rachel said brokenly, bowing her head, pressing the tips of her fingers to her temples, struggling to keep calm. "You... you did help, in your own way." She raised her head, holding Evelyn's gaze, apology in her own eyes. "It's - it's not that. I - I just... I just didn't want you to bear my burden, that's all."

"I'm - I'm not a child, Rachel" -

\- "Well, stop bloody acting like one!" Rachel snapped, making Evelyn cringe away from her. "When you do, I'll start treating you like an adult, and less of an infant."

Evelyn tilted her trembling chin. "I'm sorry," she repeated, choking out her apology, "I'm sorry for being such a shit, and I'm sorry for not doing more, for not supporting you like I should have."

"Could we please stop swearing?" Rachel said, exhaling sharply, before tiredly holding her arms out to Evelyn, who sank into her embrace with a small sob. "It's... it's going to be alright," Rachel whispered, smoothing back Evelyn's long hair, the blonde highlights now fading back to dark brown, "I promise. I - I'm just trying to protect you, to keep you safe."

"You can't," Evelyn said, her voice muffled. "Not now."

Rachel closed her eyes, thinking of her sisters, of Sarah, how she had shielded them, her love their only shelter. But Sarah was dead, the world going with her, Rachel trying and failing to shield Evelyn as Sarah had shielded her.

"I can do more, Rachel," Evelyn said brokenly, "I can learn; I can change. I know what needs to be done now. I can step up and _help_."

Rachel gently let go of Evelyn, her heart breaking for her, that even at the end of the world, Evelyn was still Evelyn, never heeding the relentless march of time, rushing in where angels feared to tread, the stars always just out of her grasping, greedy reach. "It's too late," she said quietly, wiping her sister's tears away with the sleeve of her shirt, " _we're_ too late."

 _Purposeless survival_  
 _Now there's nothing left to die for_  
 _So don't struggle to recognise_  
 _Now they call it heartfelt suicide..._

* * *

Evelyn made her way through the maze of shining red plastic seats and narrow blue bench-like tables, balancing her tray with one hand, hair falling across her face. She didn't often eat with the crew, but the idea of sitting alone in the echoing silence of her and Rachel's cabin was more than she could bear, especially with what had just passed between her and her sister.

"Hey, head's up, kid," an unfamiliar voice called out, making Evelyn glance up, startled. "Here's one of your five-a-day."

On reflex, she caught the apple flung in her direction, making her tray tilt threateningly. "Thanks," Evelyn called back halfheartedly, just as Franklin steadied her tray, making her head snap round.

"Hey," he said, dropping his hand to his side, holding his own tray aloft with the other, "for a minute there it looked like you were gonna be eating off the floor."

"Oh, it's you," Evelyn said ungraciously as she started walking again, Franklin falling into step beside her, slowing down his stride to match her shorter one, "I thought it was another fruit bomb being flung at my head."

"Well, we don't want the landlubber to be getting scurvy, do we?" Franklin teased as he then pulled out a chair, then another for Evelyn, who inelegantly collapsed down into it, making the plastic creak dangerously under her sudden weight.

"Is that why every sailor on this ship is constantly attacking me with apples?" Evelyn asked, dumping her tray down at the same time as Franklin, before taking a bite of apple, the juice dripping down her chin.

"Four months later and the girl _finally_ gets it," Franklin said, high-fiving a pretty Asian girl sitting across from them, before fist-bumping Danny who was passing at that precise moment.

"The girl finally gets what?" Danny said, perching on the edge of the table, holding his tray against his hip.

"Never mind," Franklin said, rolling his eyes.

"Want to trade?" Evelyn said to Danny, wiping the juice off her chin with her shirt sleeve, whilst holding up her can of Coke. "I am _over_ carbonated beverages."

Danny looked at her for a long moment. "Sure," he said abruptly, sliding over his bottle of water, Evelyn throwing him the can at the same time, Danny catching it with dexterous ease.

"Oh, man, that's so sweet," Franklin said, his voice now muffled by mashed potato, "no more pulling on each other's pig-tails in the playground, then, huh? Should I be jealous, Danny boy?"

"Shurrup," Danny said, throwing himself down into the seat beside Franklin. "I'm only braiding your hair, buddy, nobody else's."

"What you talking about, man?" Franklin said in mock disbelief. "I don't have any hair!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Danny said, pretending to do a double-take. "Where the hell did it go!?"

Evelyn almost choked on her piece of apple, snorting at his statement, making Danny glance sharply at her, only for his face to relax. He surprisingly smiled at her, Evelyn surprising herself in turn by smiling back, realising in that moment he'd finally made up his mind about her. "My God, Daniel Green, you better watch the wind doesn't change," she said, taking another bite of apple, "or your face will be stuck like that forever."

"It would be an improvement, wouldn't it?" Franklin observed, before dodging Danny's mock punch.

"At least my face doesn't crack mirrors," Danny retorted, then digging his fork into his pile of carrots, shoveling them into his mouth.

"I've been told my face could launch a thousand ships," Evelyn pouted, pulling a ridiculous pose.

"Mine launched the USS _Nathan James_ ," Franklin preened. "I am the goddamn poster boy of this beautiful boat. The captain carries my picture in his wallet." He struck an even more ridiculous pose than Evelyn, thrusting his chest out, placing one hand behind his head, and the other on his hip. "Just call me Betty Grable," he said with a wink, showing off his surprisingly shapely ankles for extra emphasis.

"You know, I think I have that picture pinned up in my locker," Danny pretended to ponder, as everybody fell about laughing, Franklin doubling up, spraying pieces of mashed potato everywhere.

"Aw, man, it will be good to go home," the pretty Asian girl said as the merriment subsided into contented silence, everybody resuming stuffing their faces like they were taking their last meal. "You looking forward to getting your feet back on dry land, Evelyn?"

Immediately Evelyn froze, her fork hovering in mid-air, her lasagna halfway to her lips. For a few minutes, she had forgotten everything, as if she was the old Evelyn again, without a care in the world, laughing and letting time lazily slip through her fingers. "Yeah," she said abruptly, "it'll be good to get back." Without another word, she resumed tucking into her lasagna, feigning complete absorption in her food. The outside world had ceased to exist for Evelyn, her existence entangled with grief and guilt, struggling to stay sane, to live a lie. She wrestled with her terror for tomorrow on an hourly basis, everything else fading into the background in the face of her fear; Aaron, Sarah, her old anarchic existence where she had been the epicentre of all and everything.

* * *

"Here," Evelyn said abruptly, dumping an apple and bottle of water on Rachel's desk, "I thought you might be hungry."

Rachel just mouthed, 'thanks,' before turning her back on Evelyn, cradling the satellite phone in the crook of her neck, waiting for somebody, anybody to pick up. Communication with Aaron had become erratic, and everytime she asked about the outside world, Aaron would give her the same answer, that the virus hadn't reached Phase 6 yet, that they still had time. Four months ago, Rachel had concluded the virus was in the initial stages of Phase 6, but now she desperately clung to the slim hope Aaron was actually telling the truth, that the virus could still be contained long enough to buy her time to combat it with the cure, even as all her experience was telling her otherwise.

Leaning against the desk, Rachel half closed her eyes, praying even more desperately for somebody to just pick up. Sometimes Aaron wasn't there to answer, one of his contacts covering for him instead, voices she didn't recognize, all telling her the same tale. It had often made Rachel wonder if Aaron had held onto his position of power against the odds, using it as an alias to operate under, or if he had evolved into an outcast, openly shunned by the Senate, Rachel only knowing that he was part of the covert movement to find a cure, Aaron as much as its instrument as she was.

"Rachel?"

The sound of Aaron's voice made Rachel's head snap up, the relief almost overwhelming, making her slump down into her seat. "Aaron," she said, her voice cracking, "something disastrous is happening at my end. The USS _Nathan James_ is breaking radio silence and making plans to return to Norfolk. I am _this_ close to finding what we need and Commander Chandler is refusing to listen to reason" -

\- "You didn't tell him the truth, did you!?" Aaron asked, the static distorting his words. "We can't afford to break cover, not at this crucial juncture" -

\- "No, of course, I didn't," Rachel flared up, "and what do you mean by crucial juncture? What the hell is happening out there, Aaron?" She glanced up at Evelyn who was now standing before her, eyes wide, face pale. "I need to know what's going on," she then said, Aaron not answering, staying silent instead, "so I can do my job more efficiently back here."

Aaron exhaled sharply, Rachel imagining him pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, brow furrowing. "The President is dead," he said abruptly, "the virus got him two months ago, the Vice President a week later. The Speaker of the House is officiating as President - what's left of federal government is holed up two hundred feet below the White House. Since the death of the President, I - we - I mean those who are searching for a cure, are now openly working with the Oval Office, the CDC, the World Health Organization, basically anyone and everyone who wants to survive this damn thing."

"We're in Phase 6 then," Rachel said, gripping the edge of the desk for support, Evelyn crouching down before her, hands clasped in almost prayer.

"We have been for a while," Aaron admitted, "the CDC has had a lot of shit flung at them, publically and privately. Behind the scenes, they've been using this mission to the Arctic to save face, to make out they were on top of everything after all, that they sent you and Quince out there under their own steam to find a cure" -

\- "That's complete codswallop!" Rachel exploded. "Time and time again I told them a vaccine needed to be developed, sooner rather than later, and all they did was sit around on their arses" -

\- "Yeah, well, the CDC is taking credit regardless," Aaron said tiredly, "but we've got bigger things to worry about, such as this operation being compromised. I'll need to patch this through pronto to the National Security Advisor" -

\- "What, they can stop the USS _Nathan James_ returning back to Norfolk?" Rachel said almost stupidly.

"The mission will be extended," Aaron said even more abruptly, "so you have more time to locate the final samples."

Rachel bowed her head, half closing her eyes again. "What about the Russians?" she suddenly demanded. "Were they not searching for the primordial strain in the Arctic as well?"

"So my contact said," Aaron said impatiently, "but apparently that particular operation fell through. The White House wasn't too happy to find out the Russians were heading out to the Arctic on a bird-spotting mission where the USS _Nathan James_ just happened to be. It almost led to an international incident" -

\- "Well, we haven't seen hide or hair of them," Rachel cut across him, "so they're the least of our concerns right now."

"Are you really that close to finding what we need?" Aaron said as though she hadn't spoken.

"Yes."

Aaron's answer to this was to cut her off, leaving her speaking to static, making Rachel slam down the satellite phone back down on its stand. "For God's sake," she snapped, rising to her feet, "why is Aaron such a prick!?"

"Did he ask about me?" Evelyn asked in a small voice, making Rachel glance sharply at her.

"He said I was to pass on his love," Rachel lied, and not for the first time, Aaron never asking about Evelyn, only interested in Rachel's progress. But this was the first time Evelyn had asked outright if Aaron had asked about her, Rachel always having been the one to offer the lie in the first place, reluctantly upholding Aaron's paternal position in Evelyn's life, even as he had apparently abandoned it.

"What the hell is going on?" a voice said from the doorway, making both sisters turn around, only to see Quincy standing there.

"You really don't want to know," Rachel said tiredly.


	9. Run & Hide

**Run & Hide **

MISSION EXTENSION: DAY TWO

"Evy... I think we've got it."

Evelyn glanced up sharply, only to be greeted by the sight of Rachel's shining eyes, her voice almost edging on awe. Two days had passed since Aaron had intervened, securing the extension of the USS _Nathan James_ mission, upsetting everyone onboard who had been all set to go home. Upon being apprised of the initially disastrous turn of events, Quincy had been surprisingly quiet on the subject, his mind obviously elsewhere. But Rachel had been too overwrought to notice, only interested in finding the cure, time now literally of the essence. Evelyn had been oddly uneasy at Quincy's disinterest, since he seemed to have an opinion on everything, especially her, but her own feverish fervour to help Rachel had swiftly obliterated every other emotion, and here she was, out on the Arctic ice, side by side with her sister, where she should have been all along.

Exhaling sharply, Evelyn reached out to Rachel, hesitating before laying her gloved hand over hers, wondering if she could dare to dream of returning back to her old aimless life, that the nightmare was now over, and she could grieve for Sarah openly and find some sort of closure, even if the idea sounded impossible. The last day or so had seemed speeded up, Evelyn and Rachel barely sleeping, only pausing to catch cat-naps and eat, exhausted on their feet, Quincy always hovering in the background, existing on the edge of their line of vision. This morning, Evelyn had taken Quincy's place, leaving him in the lab, both sisters intent on staying out on the ice until they found the salvation they were so desperately seeking, Rachel now holding fate in her hands.

The sound of laughter rippling through the air made both sisters glance over their shoulders, only to see Danny and Franklin horsing around, Evelyn feeling strangely detached from the scene, watching as Danny then flung a snowball at Franklin's head, Halsey perched atop the snowmobile, looking like he wanted to join in the fun, but too well trained to do so. Danny and Franklin had escorted them outside, remaining upon the ice whilst Rachel and Evelyn worked, much to the sisters' mutual annoyance, sensing Danny and Franklin's increasing impatience as one hour had faded into three. But now the sisters' annoyance was replaced by an almost overwhelming relief, that the impossible had been achieved against all the odds.

"You did it, Rachel," Evelyn whispered, turning to Rachel again, squeezing her hand. "You did it."

"It wasn't just me" -

\- " _You_ did it," Evelyn said firmly, "right from the start, before the shit hit the fan, you were there, busting a gut trying to make those assholes at the CDC sit up and smell the coffee. You did, it, Rach, nobody else."

"Quince" -

\- "Let's not ruin the moment by bringing Quincy into it, okay?" Evelyn said, rolling her eyes, making Rachel grin against her will.

"I wasn't on my own in this," Rachel then reiterated, bowing her head, making her hood fall across her face, "even... even if it felt like it sometimes."

Evelyn just bit her lip, giving Rachel's hand another squeeze, before staggering to her feet. "Do you want to get our gear together?" she said, sensing Rachel wanted space, just a moment to absorb what she'd achieved, that it was apparently all over.

Rachel nodded, words suddenly beyond her, her chin trembling threateningly. Evelyn briefly clasped her shoulder, before turning and heading in Danny's direction, knowing Rachel wanted to recover some modicum of her usual restrained dignity. The sisters were just getting over their last argument, relations still raw underneath the frenetic activity to find the primordial strain, and Evelyn understood too much had been said, now stepping back to give Rachel the space she needed to resurrect the walls she'd built around herself, whilst Evelyn licked her own wounds.

As she approached the others, her legs strangely unsteady as she crossed the snow, Danny suddenly hurled a snowball in her direction, Evelyn dodging it at the last second, feeling some fragments of ice scrape her cheek. "You asswipe, Daniel Green!" Evelyn yelled, hastily scooping up some snow, swiftly sculpting it into a ball. "What are you, twelve!?"

"Twelve year olds don't have muscles like this," Danny jibed back, pulling a macho pose, "nor do they have aim like this!" He suddenly threw another snowball at her, hitting her on the shoulder this time, making Evelyn stagger back, Franklin just folding his own arms across his chest, trying and failing to look mature and disapproving.

"You are so going to pay for that!" Evelyn retorted, chucking her own snowball at Danny, who just sidestepped it with annoying ease. As she scooped up more snow, she uncomfortably sensed that with any other person this could be construed as flirting, but this was Danny Green, and so such logic didn't apply. He wasn't free to flirt with anyone anyways, and Evelyn wasn't interested in flirting with him either, vestiges of dislike and disdain towards Danny still remaining in her heart towards him. But it didn't explain why she was even thinking of flirting and Danny in the same sentence, and she crushed down her confusion, only concentrating on lobbing her snowball in the direction of his head again.

But Danny just ducked, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "I thought you were supposed to be working," he jeered, striding over to her, his footsteps crunching across the snow.

"I could ask you the same question," Evelyn retorted, flinging her hood up. "You're not exactly striking me as the epitome of industry."

"Yeah, we're working on our tans," Franklin said loftily, donning his snow goggles, Halsey barking in apparent agreement.

"Totally letting our asses hang out," Danny added, adjusting the strap of his weapon slung across his side, Evelyn admiring the gun against her will, "and what fine asses they are, as you can observe."

"What, you want me to offer my honest opinion on your arse?" Evelyn said, raising an eyebrow. "Rate it out of ten, perhaps?"

"Hell no!" Danny snapped, flushing hotly, instantly losing his cool. "I just meant" -

\- "Daniel here just meant he has a fine set of buttocks," Franklin said smoothly, "but obviously they can't compare to my can."

"Maybe we should shut up now," Daniel said, the tips of his ears now turning crimson, "before Lady Muck here brings out the score cards."

"Maybe you should stop pissing about," Evelyn countered, "and do your duty. I mean, isn't that what you signed up for, instead of making snow angels" -

\- "Hey, it was just a few snowballs," Danny flared up, "and anyways, it was your sister that told us to park our asses over here, because we were scaring off her precious birds" -

"Would you _please_ stop bringing your damn butt into the conversation" -

\- "Hey, Evelyn," Franklin cut across her, his suddenly authoritative tone making her glance up at him in surprise, Danny equally startled, "why don't you help your sister finish up whatever you were both doing, huh? It's almost time for us to be heading back." The request was gently but firmly given, all but ordering Evelyn to fall into line, Franklin shooting Danny a warning glance to do the same.

"She's finished," Evelyn said stiffly, glancing over her shoulder at Rachel still hunched over the specimens, head bowed, "she's just packing up our gear."

"Shouldn't you lend her a hand, then?" Franklin said pointedly, making Evelyn colour hotly, not liking how he was treating her like a naughty child, showing a side to his character she hadn't been aware of, only knowing Franklin who played the fool, always larking about for a laugh.

"Sure," Evelyn said through gritted teeth, before turning and making her way back over to Rachel, suddenly ashamed of herself. This was the moment that would change the world, and she had been chucking snowballs at Daniel Green's head, picking fights like a pre-schooler.

Suddenly the silence was shattered, a strange whirring sound renting the peace apart, making Evelyn's head snap up, shocked, Rachel staggering to her feet, shielding her eyes with the back of her hand. On the pale horizon, several indistinct black shapes darted into view, their presence almost polluting the air.

"Franklin!?" Rachel yelled, whirling around, panic threatening to paralyze her. "Are those friends of yours?"

"They're not natives," Franklin yelled back, already astride the snowmobile, Danny doing the same, "they're Russians!"

"Stay back!" Danny ordered. "Halsey, go!" He signalled the dog towards Evelyn, Halsey immediately obeying, almost knocking Evelyn onto her back.

"Evy, the specimens!" Rachel cried, dropping to her knees, hastily cramming the specimens in their protective case as Danny and Franklin skidded across the snow, disappearing out of sight, apparently abandoning Rachel and Evelyn, even as the sisters knew better.

Evelyn nodded frantically, tripping and stumbling towards Rachel, each step suddenly feeling like a thousand miles, Halsey at her heels. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the earth, accompanied by the sound of machine-gun fire, sending Evelyn sideways, Halsey barking wildly, Rachel losing her balance and falling onto her backside.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Evelyn screeched, her face bloodless beneath the brim of her hood, hands shaking with the shock. Even as she spoke, there was another explosion, sending both sisters sprawling, Rachel instantly righting herself, resuming her panicked packing, clumps of snow vying with specimens for space.

"Evy!" Rachel yelled, closing the case now carrying the specimens with a loud click, before diving amongst the plastic boxes surrounding the search site. "We need to get everything back to the ship!"

"Rachel, we have to go!" Evelyn screamed, trying to drag Rachel away from the boxes containing all their kit, her sister desperately hugging the protective case to her chest, almost shielding the specimens. As one of the helicopters swung round, heading in their direction, Evelyn finally succeeded in hauling Rachel away from their equipment, the two of them tearing over the ground, Halsey running like a wolf beside them.

"Evelyn, come on!" Rachel screamed as bullets suddenly started striking the snow around them. " _Run!_ " Almost in a blur, the two sisters threw themselves up the slope, the helicopter high above, wildly circling them, Halsey barking wildly, Evelyn's hand frantically finding his collar as they crested the top of the incline, and then they were falling, falling, falling, tumbling head over heels down a towering bank of snow, Evelyn's screams abruptly cut off by a mouthful of snow, Halsey landing heavily on top of her.

High above, there was suddenly another explosion, almost splintering the very air, the ground rocking violently, causing a volley of snow to cascade down the slope and nearly smother the sisters where they lay, Halsey barking in protest. Choking, Evelyn surfaced, spitting out ice and snow, feeling like her throat was on fire, her hands fumbling wildly for Rachel and Halsey, but only finding empty air. As if from far away, there was the sound of gunfire, punctuated by the din of bullets striking metal, something whirring wildly overhead, briefly turning the sky black, before another explosion tore Evelyn's existence apart.

 _They started saying if you can't hide, run_  
 _If you can't run, hide..._


End file.
